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"
I
've
been
just
fine
,
Holden
.
"
She
closed
the
closet
door
.
"
How
have
you
been
?
"
The
way
she
asked
me
,
I
knew
right
away
old
Spencer
'd
told
her
I
'd
been
kicked
out
.
"
Fine
,
"
I
said
.
"
How
's
Mr.
Spencer
?
He
over
his
grippe
yet
?
"
"
Over
it
!
Holden
,
he
's
behaving
like
a
perfect
--
I
do
n't
know
what
...
He
's
in
his
room
,
dear
.
Go
right
in
.
"
They
each
had
their
own
room
and
all
.
They
were
both
around
seventy
years
old
,
or
even
more
than
that
.
They
got
a
bang
out
of
things
,
though
--
in
a
half-assed
way
,
of
course
.
I
know
that
sounds
mean
to
say
,
but
I
do
n't
mean
it
mean
.
I
just
mean
that
I
used
to
think
about
old
Spencer
quite
a
lot
,
and
if
you
thought
about
him
too
much
,
you
wondered
what
the
heck
he
was
still
living
for
.
I
mean
he
was
all
stooped
over
,
and
he
had
very
terrible
posture
,
and
in
class
,
whenever
he
dropped
a
piece
of
chalk
at
the
blackboard
,
some
guy
in
the
first
row
always
had
to
get
up
and
pick
it
up
and
hand
it
to
him
.
That
's
awful
,
in
my
opinion
.
But
if
you
thought
about
him
just
enough
and
not
too
much
,
you
could
figure
it
out
that
he
was
n't
doing
too
bad
for
himself
.
For
instance
,
one
Sunday
when
some
other
guys
and
I
were
over
there
for
hot
chocolate
,
he
showed
us
this
old
beat-up
Navajo
blanket
that
he
and
Mrs.
Spencer
'd
bought
off
some
Indian
in
Yellowstone
Park
.
You
could
tell
old
Spencer
'd
got
a
big
bang
out
of
buying
it
.
That
's
what
I
mean
.
You
take
somebody
old
as
hell
,
like
old
Spencer
,
and
they
can
get
a
big
bang
out
of
buying
a
blanket
.
His
door
was
open
,
but
I
sort
of
knocked
on
it
anyway
,
just
to
be
polite
and
all
.
I
could
see
where
he
was
sitting
.
He
was
sitting
in
a
big
leather
chair
,
all
wrapped
up
in
that
blanket
I
just
told
you
about
.
He
looked
over
at
me
when
I
knocked
.
"
Who
's
that
?
"
he
yelled
.
"
Caulfield
?
Come
in
,
boy
.
"
He
was
always
yelling
,
outside
class
.
It
got
on
your
nerves
sometimes
.
The
minute
I
went
in
,
I
was
sort
of
sorry
I
'd
come
.
He
was
reading
the
Atlantic
Monthly
,
and
there
were
pills
and
medicine
all
over
the
place
,
and
everything
smelled
like
Vicks
Nose
Drops
.
It
was
pretty
depressing
.
I
'm
not
too
crazy
about
sick
people
,
anyway
.
What
made
it
even
more
depressing
,
old
Spencer
had
on
this
very
sad
,
ratty
old
bathrobe
that
he
was
probably
born
in
or
something
.
I
do
n't
much
like
to
see
old
guys
in
their
pajamas
and
bathrobes
anyway
.
Their
bumpy
old
chests
are
always
showing
.
And
their
legs
.
Old
guys
'
legs
,
at
beaches
and
places
,
always
look
so
white
and
unhairy
.
"
Hello
,
sir
,
"
I
said
.
"
I
got
your
note
.
Thanks
a
lot
.
"
He
'd
written
me
this
note
asking
me
to
stop
by
and
say
good-by
before
vacation
started
,
on
account
of
I
was
n't
coming
back
.
"
You
did
n't
have
to
do
all
that
.
I
'd
have
come
over
to
say
good-by
anyway
.
